Somethin' Special
by Beccy95
Summary: Shane has trouble adjusting after Rick's return, and he can't handle being dropped by both Rick and Lori. Set after Rick's return in 1.03, but progresses through the series. I thought there weren't enough non-oneshot Rick/Shane fics. Shane 's POV (inner monologue possibly OOC). Rated M for profanity, mature themes, and sex in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

"New guy's a cop, like you."

At Glenn's words, my heart seized in my chest, but I forced the feeling down. None of us could afford to hope; not about things like that. I looked up, squinting through the afternoon sun to see the figure emerging from behind Dale's van.

I knew. I knew before Carl and Lori even clocked him. The breath went from my chest all at once and I couldn't do anything but just stand there, my mouth gaping open like a fish outta water. And suddenly he was stalking towards us, and I thought he saw me and I _wanted_ him to see me but he didn't… of course he didn't. He only had eyes for his family, and there they were; like our own little miracle.

It was a long time after that before he really noticed me. He saw me; we exchanged words; but he didn't notice me like I kept wishing for. I knew I oughta give him time, so I did- but keeping away was harder than I would've hoped. He was my best friend, and I missed him too- I missed him just like his wife did, but I didn't let myself show it. She wasn't the only one who had mourned for him.

Later, when he did come, it was like all the tension in me that had been mounting up over weeks and weeks just drifted away. Rick. My partner. My best bud. He always had a knack for making people feel at ease, and I had never been more grateful for it than at that moment. All I wanted to do was to let him soothe my crazy mind- to bring some kind of normality back into our lives.

He sat with me on the dirt at the edge of the woods, away from the others, and for a long while neither of us said anything at all. We watched as the sun set over the hills, and as one by one the people around us disappeared into their tents. Lori sent Carl off and wandered over to us. I wondered if Rick saw the accusing look she shot me, or the guilt that seemed to be a constant niggling thought at the edge of her mind. Even if he did, he never let on.

"You boys alright out here?" Lori asked, but she wasn't talking to me. Even Rick knew that.

"We're fine, sweetheart. Just need a little time to talk, is all. There's a lot been goin' on that I oughta be filled in on," he responded.

"Just, you didn't look like you were talking much-"

"Lori," I said, "We wanted to wait 'til everybody was sleepin'. There's a lot I gotta tell Rick about that I don't think you and Carl- or anybody else, for that matter- wanna be relivin' anytime soon."

She shot me a warning glance, a _don't-you-dare _look that told me in no uncertain terms that I was not to tell Rick about our little arrangement in his absence. She needn't have worried; that was one betrayal that I didn't have to face admitting right away. She knew she was beat regardless, and trailed off to her tent with a resigned sigh.

Rick turned to me, and I noticed- not for the first time since his return- how frail he looked now; even worse than when I last saw him. His cheekbones were protruding more than they should have been under papery-delicate skin, and his jaw was covered in coarse stubble. I had to admit that he was one tough son of a bitch, but the sight stirred in me a fierce desire to protect him; to keep him safe before anything else could come out of this bastard world and knock the last of the strength from him.

He didn't speak until I snapped back to myself, and stopped staring at him. I cleared my throat and stared at my feet, cumbersome in their oversized boots.

"You been takin' care of Lori and Carl for me?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, sir."

I still stared at my feet, trying not to think about just how I had been taking care of Lori. I forced down the thought of her- of her tears, and her moans, and her slender, naked body pressed against mine. I tried to convince myself that I had really thought he was dead; that I was justified in betraying him. In betraying both of them.

"Yeah. I been takin' real good care of them for you."

He nodded slowly and reached over to pat my knee, a slight smile creeping over his familiar features. I moved my gaze from his feet to the hand on my leg, but he pulled it away quickly and dusted his hands together- like he was wiping off the feel of me. One hand moved to his face, rubbing the rough stubble that he found there.

"Shane," he began, slowly. "Shane… I been thinkin' a lot about when I woke up in that hospital. Been thinkin' about how that door to my room was blocked off like it was. From what I could see, ain't nobody had the time or inclination to do that for a stranger."

I could see where he was going- what I had wanted to admit to him all along, but couldn't bring myself to say. He must've seen the guilt written all over my face. I could feel my cheeks hot with shame, and I self-consciously ran my hand through my hair.

"Would I be right in sayin' that it was you that set that up for me?"

His voice was neutral, not accusing- but I still couldn't bring myself to look at him, like I should have done. Like any man worth a dime would have done. I was never brave like this, with the emotional stuff. I could face a dozen walkers unfazed, or a dozen armed thugs back when Rick and I were partners- but I couldn't handle looking my best friend in the eyes and telling him that I left him alone in that hospital.

"Yeah, Rick. I reckon that would be about right," I said to my shoes.

"I thought as much," he replied. There was another long silence, broken only by Rick scuffing the heel of his boot in the dirt.

"I'm sorry," I whispered finally. "I didn't know what to do. I shoulda brought you out, Rick, but I was so fuckin' scared…"

My voice drifted off. My excuses were pathetic, even to my own ears.

"It was all I could think to do to shut you in there; maybe give you a fightin' chance," I finished.

Rick cleared his throat, and looked right at me. This time, I looked back. He didn't even look angry. Why did he always have to be so fucking _reasonable_? I wanted him to curse me, to punch me like I deserved. To hate me for just leaving him there when I knew he was alive, and a fighter. My gaze turned back to my shoes.

"Well now," he said, "I reckon that's exactly what you did, ain't it? You gave me a fightin' chance, and it worked- I'm here now." He smiled softly, and patted my back. "I don't blame you for leavin' me, brother. I might've done the same thing if I thought for a second I coulda got Lori and Carl out safe. And you did that- you kept them safe for me, right up 'til I came back. I'll never forget that."

"I'd say I came out of this alright then, if you ain't tryin' to beat the tar outta me for leavin' you out there," I said lightly. "It's a God-damn miracle that you're alive, Rick, but it's an even bigger one that you don't seem to hate me."

He cast his gaze down, his smile disappearing. "Now, come on, Shane," he said sternly, "Y'all know not to joke about that. Don't you ever joke about that, you hear? You know I could never hate you."

My breath hitched in my throat, and I wondered if he was saying what I thought he was. "You're right," I replied. "We got somethin' special here."

"That we do," he said, his smile returning and casting all the shadow from his features.

Before I could even think about it, I grabbed his thin face between both hands and kissed him, hard and desperate; smashing my mouth onto his own. For a second, I thought he was going to comply, but I was wrong. He sprang to his feet, dusting his hands together again even though he hadn't been touching me. He shot a glance up to Glenn on sentry duty, but he had his back to us in the chair atop Dale's van.

"What the hell was that? You wanna try that shit _here_? After everything that's happened to us all, you honestly thought we could be the same?" he hissed angrily.

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. I knew it. "We got somethin' special, do we? Do we, Rick?" I said, grabbing his jaw in my hand and turning him to face me. I took a step towards him- taller, broader, imposing myself on him- but he shoved my hand away.

"You fuckin' _meathead._ We're livin' in a different world now. Sure, we got somethin' special! We got memories, and secrets that ain't never gonna get out, not if I can help it. Nothin' more- not here, not now."

He turned to stalk off, and I grabbed his arm- but this time I must've got to the end of his patience because he turned round and socked me one, right in the chin. I dropped his arm to clamp a hand to my jaw, reeling from the pain. I already felt the liquid warmth of blood seeping onto my fingers, and I tasted that distinctive metallic taste inside my mouth as I watched him walk away towards the tent that Lori had disappeared into.

"Hey, Shane!"

I looked up to see Glenn staring down at me from the RV, rifle in his hands. I climbed up to join him.

"Dude, are you alright? What was that about?" he asked, his face settling into its familiar mask of puzzlement.

"Leave it, Glenn," I said, spitting the blood from my mouth and snatching the rifle from him. "I'll take next watch."

He still looked confused; like he might argue, but he obviously decided against it and shrugged resignedly before climbing down and wandering to his tent. I sat down, watching him go, feeling the comforting weight of the gun resting in my lap. And finally, when I could see him no more, the tears that had long been threatening began to spill forth, cascading noiselessly down my cheeks as I stared into the dying embers of the fire.

I had already lost Rick once. I had given him up for dead, only to have him come back to me when I had lost all hope. I hadn't bet on losing him a second time… But as far as I could figure, that was exactly what I had just gone and done.


	2. Chapter 2

I stayed up all night on sentry duty, because at least then I was doing something productive; something that used up all of my concentration so I didn't have to think about anything else. At first light I hopped down, nodding at Carol who was already up and pottering around the fire. No doubt that asshole husband of hers had her up at the crack of dawn, running after him like some sorta indentured servant. There are some things even the apocalypse can't change.

"Keep an eye out, will you?" I asked when I saw her. She sat back on her haunches and looked up at me, poking at the newly kindled fire with a stick. Her eyes widened when she saw the state of my face.

"What on Earth happened to you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Leave it out," I said, storming down to the lake so I could wash the blood and dust of the night from my face. By the time I got down there it was already full light, but I couldn't see any movement from up in the camp so I stripped right down and waded into the cool water. I leaned over and splashed my face, feeling the sting as the water hit my busted chin. Considering he got me with one punch, Rick bloodied me up pretty bad. My lip was swollen and sore, but the cool liquid trickling down my face soothed it a little and the swelling seemed to subside.

I just stood for a while, staring at the trees, trying not to think. I probably shouldn't have let myself daydream like that, but it was nice to forget the walkers just for a minute and try to empty my head of its tumultuous thoughts. When I heard noise behind me, I spun round- worried that I was going to regret not paying attention.

"Oh, Jesus, Shane!"

It was Lori.

"I didn't know you were down here- Shane! Will you put some clothes on?" She looked away uncomfortably as I waded from the waist-deep water.

"What you gettin' your pretty panties in a twist for? Ain't nothin' here you ain't seen before," I said, picking up my cargo pants and roughly pulling them on. She glared at me through those dark curls of hers, and I had to laugh.

"Nothing about this is funny," she hissed. "Nothing. You lied to me. You told me that Rick was dead." She looked at me with her face all serious, and I wondered what had happened to the Lori I knew just a couple days ago. I wondered if I would ever see that Lori again.

"Don't you use that against me, girl. He was as good as dead when I left him- all I could do was shut over the door to his hospital room, and that hardly leaves room to hope, does it? It was better this way. You could move on, you and Carl."

I tightened my belt buckle and pulled on my t-shirt, waiting for a reaction. All she seemed able to do was shake her head at me and grimace silently like I truly disgusted her. I reached out to touch her arm softly; the picture of gentleness. "I am sorry, Lori," I said sincerely, "Truly I am. But I thought I was makin' the right call for you and your boy."

She shrugged away from my touch and stared at the surface of the lake, which was already glassy still as if I had never disturbed it at all. She sighed; a deep, thoughtful sigh as if the weight of the world was on her slender shoulders.

"Did Rick do that to your face?" she asked, her eyes drifting to my mouth. I ran my fingers over the tender little gash in my lip, nodding. A worried look came across her face, and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

"I didn't tell him. I ain't gonna tell him, neither. Better for all of us that way. We just had a disagreement is all. Don't worry, you got your happy little family again and I ain't gonna come out and tell Rick that you fucked me 'cos I told you he was dead."

She looked like she might hit me, but she didn't, so I kept on. "Was it really because you thought he was dead? Was it, Lori? Or was it just because you wanted to, and you been wantin' to a long time?" She was breathing rapidly through her nose, staring at me, and I knew she was mad but so was I and I just couldn't bring myself to stop.

"And when you made love to him last night, to your _husband_," I spat, "Was it the same as when we were together? I'm gonna bet it wasn't, not close." I wondered if it was the same for Rick, too. I wondered if he even thought about it.

I let out a humourless chuckle, cocking my head to the side and analysing her icy glare. "I mean God love him, he tries Lori, but he ain't really got a clue, does he? He ain't like me- he can't protect you like I can. How can you feel safe in those skinny little arms of his, huh?"

I knew exactly how, because once upon a time I had felt safe there too, and all I really wanted was for him to grab me and hold me and comfort me like he used to. I knew only now that I hadn't savoured that like I should have done. I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and forced them down under lock and key, because that was the very last thing I wanted to think about right now. I grabbed hold of Lori's arm.

"Come with me, now- I'll make you feel safe again like you know he can't. I will, I swear it." I pulled her towards me by the wrist, bent my face to hers- and this time she did hit me, a sharp _smack_ across my cheek. I leaned back with my hands on my hips, licking the inside of my stinging cheek and surveying Lori's expression of disgust.

"You're a real piece of work, Shane, you know that? He's meant to be your best friend," she said quietly, shaking her head.

"He is," I sighed. "I just… I'm just mad. I'm sorry. It's a lot to handle all at once; things I never expected to have to deal with. Please-" I looked straight into her eyes, but her eyelids lowered under my gaze.

"None of us expected to have to deal with this, but the rest of us are making do the best we can. Not like you- there's something dangerous in you that I don't like, Shane. I'm warning you now to stay away from me- and stay away from my family. What happened between us was a mistake, so don't you ever bring it up to me again- to me or to Rick. It's done." I shrugged as she turned and walked off, but I watched her go, right 'til she disappeared over the hill and into the camp.

I don't even know why I provoked her like that- if I wasn't so God-damn hot headed I could probably have smoothed things over with her. And maybe if I didn't need to be so forceful all the time; if I just had the patience to let things work themselves out, maybe I wouldn't have fucked things up so bad with Rick the night before. I laughed bitterly to myself. "Well now, it sure seems like the Grimes family got it in for me right about now."


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: This chapter is a long one with a lot of content, so please bear with it! I think it's vital for everyone's character development and it's an important point in Rick and Shane's relationship. **_

It was still early morning when I trekked back up the hill to the camp, but I had already made up my mind to speak to Rick about what had happened the night before. His wife might have been a lost cause, but I couldn't give up on Rick. I had taken it too far with Lori earlier- I knew that much- but I hadn't meant what I had said about him. He was doing his best, just the same as all of us. I loved them both, but it just made me so angry that they could turn away from me so quickly like that.

Lori was cooking breakfast on our weak little fire when I returned, and she didn't even bother to glance up at me. "Where's Rick?" I asked her, careful to keep my voice calm and emotionless.

"You leave him alone," she said coldly, still not looking up from the pot she was stirring. I could see Andrea was puzzled as she looked between Lori's stony face and the gash on my chin, but she didn't say anything about it. I was glad of that; once that girl got involved in something she would never let it rest.

"I just wanna talk to him, is all," I said reasonably. "To clear up anythin' we mighta disagreed on last night."

"He's sleeping. Don't wake him. I'll tell him you called," she said coldly- like I was some little boy she thought she could order around. I wouldn't have minded so much, but a week before she had been whispering in my ear as I moved between her legs, and the contrast grated a bit.

"Don't talk to me like I'm Carl, Lori. Don't take that tone-"

When she tore her eyes from the fire to look up at me, I gulped down my momentary anger and decided that I didn't need any unnecessary confrontations. "Sorry- alright. You tell him for me," I conceded, walking away to find someone who was a little more receptive to my conversation. I saw Glenn and Dale talking together by the RV; fiddling around with something under the hood. The women were all chatting lightly as they tended the fires and folded the clothes, and I wasn't much entertaining the idea of joining them.

Fuck conversation.

I fetched my handgun and disappeared into my tent to clean it; enjoying the concentration that it took to take it apart and reassemble it properly. It didn't really need to be cleaned, but going through the motions made me feel like I was doing something productive- besides, this was one thing that I couldn't screw up. I was calm when I finished, and I stretched as I stepped from the dim little tent into the warm, moist air of late morning.

"Gunna get more water," I called, wandering over to the jeep and hopping up to the driver's seat. Glenn looked over to me, adjusting his cap and squinting to see me through the sunlight.

"You need help?" he asked, wandering towards me. I rolled the window down.

"Naw, thanks. It ain't work for two bodies," I said, putting the car into drive and lifting a hand in recognition of Glenn as I sped away. When I looked back in the mirror, I saw him wave back slowly before wandering over to where he had been standing with Dale.

I was grateful to be completely alone for a time; left with my thoughts as I fetched the water in huge canisters and heaved them onto the back of the jeep. A lot had changed for me, more quickly than I could have anticipated- but I didn't mind thinking about it so much when there was nobody there to watch me and analyse my every move. I didn't even see any walkers- it was like the good Lord had decided to just leave me be for a while. By the time I started back, the midday sun was bright in the sky and I was drenched in sweat. It was good, though- it made me feel as if I had done some real work, and my foul mood had lifted somewhat by the time I got back to camp.

"Water's here, y'all," I called as I parked up. "Just a reminder to boil before use."

My eyes scanned over the group, and I immediately caught sight of Rick- looking awkward in some borrowed clothes that didn't suit him. He saw me, too, and we shared a momentary tense look before I turned to help Glenn and Andrea unload the heavier of the water canisters.

We were interrupted by a piercing scream coming from the direction of the woods, which I immediately knew as Sophia- and Carl's voice quickly joined the cacophony. I grabbed the rifle from the passenger seat of the jeep and bolted towards the sound, adrenaline coursing through my every vein.

_The creeps better not touch Carl don't let them touch Carl not Carl not my boy not my boy not my boy- _

I shot into the clearing just after Lori and Rick, rapidly established that Carl was unhurt, and continued on to the source of the kids' hysteria. It was one ugly fucker, crouched and feasting on the still-warm flesh of a felled deer. It didn't even look up from its feast when we circled round it, weapons in hand. We all paused for a second- disgusted and yet unable to tear our eyes away from its feral, instinctive movements.

Rick had the first blow, startling us to movement, and then I upended my rifle and rammed the butt of the gun into the walker's back, cracking through bone that would have felled anything living. We all had a go, becoming almost feral ourselves- unleashing our pent-up anger on this sorry outnumbered bastard and covering ourselves with its tainted blood. Dale ended it, severing its neck with a well-placed blow from a wood-axe.

We were all concerned by the appearance of a walker so close to our safe haven- they had never come so far up the mountain before. Despite my deep-seated hope that this was a lone incident I knew that others wouldn't be far behind, searching for food outside the confines of Atlanta's lifeless streets.

Daryl emerged from the trees then- nearly getting himself shot in the process of his stealthy approach. "Aw, Jesus," I complained under my breath as I lowered my gun. He started mouthing off about the deer; pissed that the walker had got to it before he had. I tuned out of his complaints, but I had to raise my gun to keep him from going for Dale. He had a quick temper, and I didn't envy whoever was going to have to tell him about Merle.

The walker's severed head started squirming again, and Daryl fired a crossbow bolt square through its eye. The movement stopped at once. He shook his head and pulled the gore-covered arrow from the geek's eye, then turned to walk back to camp. For a second Rick and I were left staring after him as he went, but we exchanged glances as he started calling out for his brother and jogged to catch up with him.

_God damn it, _I thought, frowning as I noticed Rick had stopped alongside the rest of the group. _I'm the poor bastard who's gotta tell him. _

I took a deep breath and stalked after him, grimacing at the thought of bearing the brunt of his anger. "Daryl," I said, slinging my rifle back into the jeep, "Slow up a bit, I need to talk to you."

He looked over his shoulder at me, disinterested.

"'Bout what?" he shrugged, squinting through the sun.

"'Bout Merle." I walked past him as I said it, staring at the ground with my hands on my hips. Bracing myself, I turned to face him. "There was a problem in Atlanta."

Daryl looked around at everyone like a cornered animal, his face fighting desperately to remain neutral. "Dead?" he asked bluntly.

"I'm not sure," I replied, and my voice came out almost as a whisper. I gulped.

"He either is or he ain't!"

I was relieved when Rick stepped in, and as he explained what had happened my frustration with him dropped away. I couldn't have told Daryl about his brother because I didn't have the right words, but Rick always knew what to say. I was on edge though, watching Daryl's flighty movements, which I was sure were the calm before the storm.

I saw him launch himself towards Rick, and I brought him down before he could do anything he might regret. As soon as I released him, he pulled a knife- and in that moment he had the look of a man who would gladly use it on any of us. I grabbed him in a tight headlock and gestured to Rick to strip him of his weapons.

"Okay. Okay!" I growled, in an attempt to calm him and stop his frantic wriggling.

"You best let me go!" I could feel his Adam's apple pressing into my forearm as he grumbled. I felt the effort the words took, squeezed from under the grip of my headlock.

"Nah, think it's best I don't," I replied lightly. He calmed slightly as Rick reasoned with him, and I let go. He dropped to the dirt, grumbling as Rick and T-Dog took over explaining what had gone down in Atlanta. I dropped back- talking wasn't my deal. When I heard that Rick planned to go back to the city for Merle, though, I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming at him.

What the hell was he thinking? We had only just got him back, and now he was planning to risk his life for that low-life redneck? I turned on my heel and disappeared into my tent, worried that I wouldn't be able to control myself.

I sat down, dropping my head into my hands with a deep sigh. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the crowd dispersing; returning to their work. They snapped open again when I heard the zipper of my tent come undone, and I looked up at my visitor.

"Shane," said Rick as he made room next to me on the pokey groundsheet of the tent and sat down. "I wanted to apologise about last night. Looks like I caught you a sore one."

I laughed, running a hand over my hair. "That you did. In more ways than one." He sniffed at my words, fidgeting with his fingertips. "I'm sorry- I shouldn't have brought that up. I know things have changed. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that, last night."

He shook his head, still fidgeting. "'S alright."

I had been hoping for something more. For him to take back what he said last night, and what he had just said to Daryl about going back to Atlanta. For him to comfort me like I had been longing for since the day he got shot, back when we were still naïve about everything. Before the walkers, and the affair with Lori, and everything else that had gone sour recently.

I think he sensed my disappointment, because he spoke again. "What do you want me to do? Abandon my family for you? Reach over there and kiss you? That ain't gonna happen- it can't happen!" he said, his voice breaking.

"You want it to happen. Even someone as pig-headed as you ain't gonna forget feelings like that overnight."

"The world ended," he croaked.

"That don't matter. Last night, you wanted to kiss me back."

"I didn't. Shut up."

"What is this, Rick?" I said, gesturing exasperatedly at the air. "Do you wanna go back to the time of me punchin' your lights out 'cos I didn't wanna be a big fuckin' fairy? I thought we were past that shit, past denyin' ourselves. It ain't _like_ that with us, like it would be with anyone else. You don't have anything to prove to me- I ain't your wife! Just admit it- last night, you wanted to kiss me back."

"I didn't, Shane. Shut _up_."

"Yeah you di-"

He cut me off, grabbing my hair and smashing his lips into mine. Our noses cracked together painfully, and he was pulling my hair too hard. There was a glimmer of passion in me, like a flame ignited by his kiss- but the overwhelming feeling that swept over me was relief.

I had been wrong- he didn't want me. He _needed_ me.

He let go of my hair, almost pushing me back from him. I leaned back on my elbow, rubbing my nose and surveying the growing look of shame on his face. He was embarrassed because he liked to think that he was always in charge of the situation- always had a plan or a response. This time, he seemed to have neither.

"What're we gonna do, Shane?" he asked dejectedly.

"Don't go back to Atlanta."

"You know that ain't what I meant," he snapped.

A voice called from outside, interrupting our quiet interactions. Carol had Rick's uniform ready, clean and pressed as though he was off for a regular shift, as though the world hadn't ended and civilisation was still going strong. I looked down at my own uniform. It seemed like a strange custom to keep, but it made me feel safer when I was wearing it and I suppose it was the same for him.

"I'm in here, Carol," he called, unzipping the tent and sticking his head out. "Just having a word with Shane before I go."

She handed the clothes to Rick with a meek smile, and then promptly disappeared again. I closed the entrance to the tent again.

"So you're going, then?" I asked him as he stripped off his borrowed white t-shirt. "I can't convince you otherwise?"

He pulled on his shirt, shaking his head and refusing to make eye contact with me. I grabbed his shirt collar in both fists, forcing him to look at me. "All right then," I hissed, "But you better come back to me safe, 'cos you're about all I'm livin' for now."

I kissed him again, more gently than he had kissed me, and let go of his collar. "I promise," he said quietly, as I left him behind in the tent.

_**A/N: Thanks for the reviews- and yes, I'm pretty sure there will be more explicit sex at some point. I just haven't decided yet whether this will be in flashback form, present day, or both. **_


	4. Chapter 4

_The two men fell through the door, laughing, their minds foggy after too many cheap beers. One of the men closed the door behind them and locked it, throwing the key into a shallow bowl on the nearby bureau. He slapped his skinny friend on the back, chuckling and shaking his head in disbelief._

"_I ain't never seen you run so fast in your life," he said. "You been havin' a dry spell too, buddy! Thought you woulda taken anythin' with titties and a pulse."_

"_Come on Shane," his friend responded, "I mighta been havin' a dry spell but I ain't blind. Didn't you see her?"_

"_She wasn't exactly the sort you could miss," said Shane, and the easy grin that spread across his face made him look like a kid that had been up to mischief._ _"Poor girl," he sighed, steadying himself against the bureau. _

_He brought his gaze up from his hands- anchored on the wood surface to stop himself toppling over- and looked around at their shared family photographs, dotted all over the wall in front of him. Rick had been his best friend since childhood, and it had seemed like every experience they had ever known had been shared. There were grainy pictures of them as kids, juxtaposed with their grinning graduation photos. There was a picture of them both in uniform, too- two of the finest new recruits that the King's County Sheriff's Department had seen in years._

_Tucked into the edge of that frame was a photograph that Shane hadn't noticed before- small, like the ones you take in a photo booth. He picked it up; the tiny, glossy piece of paper dwarfed by his big hands. It was Rick and that girl… Lori, was that her name? He stared at it for a moment, wondering when her picture had appeared amongst all of their things. Now he thought about it, he was pretty sure that was her scarf hanging limply on the coat rack, too, and her Diet Coke lying untouched in the fridge. It hadn't been long, but at this rate she would be moved in by the spring. _

_He dropped the picture unceremoniously to the floor, the patterns on the wallpaper swirling in front of his eyes and making his head swim. He felt his way to the sofa and crashed down on the worn fabric, stomach churning. _

"_You okay, brother?" Rick asked, with a note of genuine concern in his voice. _

"_Just fine," replied Shane unconvincingly._

_His friend threw him a bottle of water, which landed with a thud against his chest, eliciting a surprised grunt. Rick budged his feet along and joined him on the sofa, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt._

"_Warm," he stated with an exhausted sigh._

"_Yeah man. Gonna be a hot summer if it keeps on like this," Shane replied, laying the cool bottle of water on his flushed forehead. He sat up, kicking off his shoes and shifting his feet so that the other man could sit comfortably. _

"_I feel better already," he said optimistically, unscrewing the cap of the water bottle with a _click_ and taking a swig._

"_That's good," Rick replied blandly. There was a long pause- so unnaturally long, in fact, that Shane put down his water on the coffee table and looked over at his friend, vaguely concerned in a hazy, drunken way. _

"_What's eatin' you?"_

_Rick picked at the drab canvas of the sofa, and then moved to wringing his hands. "It's Lori," he began, looking up at Shane. He saw the unmistakeable twitch of a frown flit across his partner's face before he loosened up, his mouth easing into a smile._

"_Yeah, what about her? You ain't gone and knocked her up, have you? You devil! And there was me thinkin' you were havin' a dry spell."_

_Shane chuckled at his words, but he couldn't disguise the hint of tension in his voice. That was one of the things Rick found so interesting about Shane- something you came to notice when you spent a lot of time with him. There was always some intense feeling coiled up inside him; something that would pounce at you without hesitation if you pushed his buttons right. Rick liked that sense of excitement- and he knew him well enough to know what to say to him to make him step up or back down. Usually. That was where the element of danger came in. _

"_Naw, man, nothin' like that," he replied defensively. "Nothin' like that. It's only that I been thinkin' 'bout her a lot lately; about what it might be like to go steady with her."_

"_Well, now, that's grand. 'Bout time you found yourself a girl, too. That's just grand."_

_Shane studied Rick, watching his blue eyes travel around the room- never focusing on anything for more than a moment. He settled for staring at the ceiling; leaning back and twining his hands behind his head. "Maybe. But there's somethin' I been wantin' to clear up with you, first."_

"_Hey, now," protested Shane, "I want you to know that I ain't got a problem with her. She's a nice girl. She's wantin' to stop leavin' her pussy-ass diet sodas in our fridge, but other than that…" his voice drifted off into an uneasy laugh. Rick sat up, unlinking his hands and flexing his shoulders like he was preparing for a boxing match. It occurred to him fleetingly that a boxing match wasn't the most unlikely outcome of the proposition he was about to make._

"_That's not what I wanted to clear up."_

_Shane raised an eyebrow, but he let his friend continue. _

"_I don't ever want anythin' to come between us-"_

"_Nothin' between us is gonna change- it'll be just the same as always, but with a girl there, sometimes. That's all."_

"_That ain't all- just let me finish. Please."_

_Shane gave an impassive shrug._

"_Thank you," Rick said in response, clearing his throat self-consciously. "Sometimes I feel like if I got a girl- a steady girl- it would be gettin' in the way of our… arrangement."_

"_What arrangement? We can still share the apartment-"_

"_Just- shut up for a second. I'm tryin' to tell you somethin'." He took a deep breath. "I mean- I feel a lot for you, man. And if you would rather I didn't go with Lori, well, that's fine too."_

_Shane stopped ruining the thumbnail that he had been nervously biting and laughed that easy laugh of his. "I already told you, didn't I? I ain't got a problem with Lori. Why would I wanna stop you goin' with her?"_

"_Well, in case…"_

_Shane frowned at the pause, cocking his head to one side to survey his friend with alcohol-dampened senses. Even through the beer fog, he could see that Rick was pale and flushed- agitated. He kept twiddling his thumbs, as he was wont to do when he was anxious. _

"_In case you wanted me to go with you, instead."_

_The words came out fast, tripping over each other like they couldn't wait to be free of Rick's clumsy mouth. It took Shane a moment to process what he had heard, but he stood up rapidly, swaying unbalanced next to the coffee table. _

"_The fuck are you sayin', Grimes?"_

_Rick tried to speak, but his brain was shooting blanks- leaving his mouth gaping as the only words his mind could formulate were- _

oh no oh no oh no oh no

_-tapping inside his head like Morse code._

_He stood up awkwardly, trying to formulate an appropriate response; a way to back out of what he had just implied. "I just- I mean-" he stammered, but the words wouldn't come. His mouth was parched, and his tongue had turned to stone in his mouth- slow, and useless. _

"_I think I might be in love with you, Shane," he finally managed to stutter out- quickly, in case the words changed their mind. _

"_What the _fuck_?" was the last thing he heard before the harsh _crack_ of knuckles against teeth- and then he was deaf to the world for a time. He was out cold; Shane standing over him with one of his tightly clenched fists already showing the first signs of bruising. He looked down at his unconscious friend for a moment, breathing rapidly- and then promptly turned and threw up violently in the sink._

_He wasn't sure what had just happened, or if it was real. He thought about it as he rinsed his clammy face with cool water from the tap, but when he turned round he saw that Rick was still lying sprawled on the rug- one arm draped over the glass surface of the coffee table. _

_Shane was sick again. Sick and sick and sick until he had nothing more to give and there wasn't anything left in him but an acidic burn in his stomach. He turned to walk away, grabbing the blanket on the arm of the sofa and spreading it over his friend's thin torso, surveying his flickering eyes with a look of mingled sympathy and disgust. _

_He turned away and stalked to his room- taking great pains to lock the door behind him very deliberately, like he was trying to prove something to himself. He lay in his bed, fully clothed, and tried to make himself believe that it was just a dream- Rick's proposition, and the faint stirring of fright inside his own mind as he thought about what it meant. More than that- the faint stirring of another feeling that he didn't think he was ready to face._

_He closed his eyes, and willed it with all his might to go away._

Shane supposed that Rick had forgotten about that night, like he had so many other drunken mistakes- buried the memory deep in the confines of his mind where he could force it down if it ever tried to surface. Perhaps he really did forget- he never brought it up again- but regardless, Shane never could. It signified the start of something for them- something between he, Rick and Lori that none of them could ever have suspected would happen.

Now that he knew, he was bitter. He could have had Rick to himself- if he had been less of a pussy and made the right decision all those years ago, he could have had him. Christ, he could have removed Lori from the picture right then himself- could have taken her from Rick, if he had tried hard enough. Rick would've forgiven him before long. But he never did. And now, when almost everybody else was dead and free of their sins- he was somehow still here to regret that.


	5. Chapter 5

I kept trying to convince Rick not to go; and when reasoning with him didn't work I turned to pleading. When he had set his mind to something nobody could convince him otherwise, but it would have felt wrong not to try- to let him go out there without showing him how afraid I was of losing him again. The only thing that Rick cared about more than his honour was his family, and even though I knew he had already weighed up all of the options I couldn't help but bring it up. It was my only chance of forcing him to stay.

"So that's it, huh- you just gonna walk off? Just to hell with everybody else?" I said under my breath as we stood surveying the rest of the camp. He turned to me, a stern look on his face.

"I'm not sayin' to hell with anybody. Not you Shane, and Lori least of all." He walked off, and I dutifully trailed after him- it was all I ever seemed to do. I already knew that he would put Lori and Carl ahead of me if he had to, but it stung that he felt the need to point it out. I might never have been the sensitive one between us, but I wasn't completely stupid either.

"Tell her that," I said sharply.

He turned to me, hands on hips and one eyebrow raised in a look that could only be faint disapproval. "She knows," he sighed. I could see that I was getting on his nerves with my protestations, but –true to form- I couldn't stop myself.

"Well look, I don't- okay, Rick?" I called after him, jogging to catch up. "So could you just- could you throw me a bone, here, man? Could you just tell me _why_? Why would you risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?"

Daryl looked up from where he was cleaning that stupid crossbow of his. "Hey," he interjected, "Choose your words more carefully."

"Oh no, I did," I snapped at him. "Douchebag's what I meant." I didn't have the time to grovel to Daryl's sorry ass- it was his idiot brother's fault that Rick was being forced back into danger. "_Merle Dixon_," I spat bitterly. "Wouldn't give you a glass of water supposin' you were dyin' of thirst."

"I can't let a man die of thirst," he said, "Me! Thirst, and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap and that's no way for anythin' to die, let alone a human bein'."

I hated the way that he could turn anything I said against me- make me look like the cruel one or the unreasonable one even when all I was trying to do was save his ass. I glared at him as he stalked off, but I could see that there was nothing I could say to bend his morals and change his mind. He had already decided.

In my annoyance, I was quick to pick out the problems in every aspect of his idiotic plan as he explained it to us, but he always had an answer. Despite this, most of us didn't want him to go. Lori, Carl and I- none of us wanted him to risk his life for a man who had only brought Rick's justice upon himself. There were only so many miracles could happen to one man, and Rick's already seemed to be wearing thin. Nobody could be that lucky for very long. At one point, Lori even spoke up to say that she agreed with me, and that _was_ a shock. She had dismissed everything I had said since Rick's return- more out of spite, I think, than a genuine disdain for my opinions.

Our pleas fell on deaf ears- I knew that he didn't want to think about what he was putting us through by leaving. He just wanted to go before anyone had a real chance to change his mind, and I resigned myself to helping him out as much as I could before he went.

I fetched him later, as they were preparing the van for their suicide mission. "Hey Rick," I said, dumping my duffel bag on the back step of the vehicle. "You got any rounds for that Python?" I enquired, although I already knew the answer and was searching intently through the bag by the time he replied.

"No."

I grinned, looking up from my search. "Last time we were on the gun range I'm sure I wound up with a few rounds of yours." I felt around in the corners of the duffel until my hand closed on what I was looking for.

"You and that bag," Rick said, laughing. "Like the bottom of an old lady's purse."

I stopped, feeling the weight of the cold metal in my hand. "I hate that you're doin' this, man." I said, as my talk suddenly turned solemn. "I think that it's foolish, and reckless, but if you're gonna go then you're takin' bullets."

"I ain't sure I wanna fire a shot in the city, not after what happened last time."

"Well, that's up to you," I said, showing him the rounds in my hand. _One, two, three, four_. "Four men, four rounds," I continued. "What are the odds, huh? Well… let's just hope that four's your lucky number, 'kay?"

I dropped the bullets into his hand and we lingered there for a moment, my callused fingertips grazing his palm. It occurred to me that this might be the last time I ever touched him, and I could tell from the way he tried to hide his frown that he was thinking the same thing. I wished I could hold him then- kiss him and touch him all over until his memory was imprinted in my head and he could always be with me there. Just in case. But I couldn't.

"Thank you," he said, simply- and I was glad that he went away then because I could feel a tight knot forming in my throat that no amount of hard resolve could force down, and I didn't need to make this any harder than it already was.

I smiled in spite of myself, running my thumb over my busted lip as I watched them drive away. The gun. Rick's Colt Python was his prized possession- those things weren't exactly standard issue at the Sheriff's Department. I felt more comfortable with a rifle tucked in the crook of my shoulder, but Rick was slighter than me and the handgun was always his weapon. Specifically, this antique Combat Magnum was his weapon, and he had miraculously managed to hold on to it through everything. "Finest revolver ever made," he had said; back when we could be choosy about that sort of thing.

It seemed to hold a sad irony, then, that it could well be the gun that killed him.

**_A/N: I fixed a few typos that I found in the previous chapter (that's what I get for posting at 3am). Also, on the comment about Shane's accent: I agree that I have written it pretty thick, but it's hard to get the subtleties of tone in writing (like when he might say "isn't" sometimes rather than always saying "ain't")- so I just went for consistency instead. Sorry if it comes on too strong!_**


	6. Chapter 6

I took Carl down to the lake to keep his mind off things- to keep my mind off things too, I guess. "Teach you how to catch frogs," I told him, and when he looked at me all puzzled he couldn't have been more like Rick; just like his daddy when he couldn't tell if I was serious or not.

He was having fun splashing around in the shallows with his oversized net, and to my surprise I was having fun too. I loved Carl like he was my own- he was my Godson, for Christ's sake- and hearing him laugh made me happy. It transported me back to a time when kids could be kids instead of living in constant fear… It already seemed like so long ago.

We were sitting on a rock drying off when Lori found us and ordered Carl away. "Doesn't matter what Shane says," she told him- funny, because it seemed like Rick thought the same way. Nobody really listened to what I had to say, because deep down nobody trusted me. Some of them acted like they did, but for others- Dale especially, Daryl and Andrea sometimes- the distrust was thinly veiled. Lori didn't bother to veil it at all now that her husband was back. It was like they were waiting for someone like Rick to come along so that they could all pile their hopes into a more reliable vehicle; remove any of the trust they had in me and transfer it to him. I did all his dirty work, covered his ass when he wasn't there- but in the end, he was the better option. I was never the good guy- I was just their only option.

Despite this, I felt more annoyance at the group than I did at Rick. He never wanted to be in charge, but he had a kind of undeniable magnetism that people were drawn to. Back at the Sheriff's Department, he was always one step ahead of me. He was the one who was praised first, the one who was promoted first, and the one who could disarm criminals and elicit confessions with a look or a soft word. People thought I was the dangerous one, but they were wrong. There will always be a certain danger in violence and threats, but it's nothing next to a person who can make you think just like he thinks without even breaking a sweat. If Rick was the politician, I was nothing but his bodyguard.

I was pissed at Rick for leaving us. Leaving me. I was pissed that he could command the respect of the group whilst remaining infuriatingly oblivious of their blind devotion. I was pissed at Lori for blaming me, and for practically banning me from her family. I was pissed at the blistering Georgia sun and the way it baked the ground into dust that seemed to cling to you no matter how hard you scrubbed. And I was pissed at Ed; the way he sat on his fat ass and just watched and watched and watched the rest of us do the hard slog.

I tried to shake off my annoyance, remembering my rule about unnecessary conflict. I tried to walk back to camp, and I swear I wanted nothing more than to ignore the sound of Ed's stupid voice threatening Andrea. I took a deep breath to harden my resolve and started to make my way up the hill- and then I heard the sharp _smack _of skin on skin and the sound of voices being raised and _God damn it Ed you just had to, didn't you?_

I ran back to the lake, dropping my gun in the dirt so that I had both hands free to heave Ed from the crowd of screaming women and throw him to the ground. I straddled him roughly- one leg clamped on either side of his so that he had no hope of escaping- and then I aimed for his face and punched him with every ounce of strength I could muster.

Once I started, I couldn't stop myself. I could hear Carol's pleas for her husband and yet her concern for him just made me more furious at the injustice of her situation. And then I tuned out of her pleas and suddenly I wasn't hitting him for Carol any more- I was hitting him because I had anger pent up in me like a poison that needed to be purged out and if anyone deserved to bear the brunt of it, it was that wife-beating motherfucker.

After what seemed like an age I began to register that I could hear my name being screamed, over and over-

"_Shane! Shane, stop! Please stop! Shane!" _

-and as I noticed the blood streaming down Ed's ruined face and the sting in my knuckles where his teeth had ripped my skin to shreds, I came back to myself. I stopped hitting him, instead pulling him up by his bloodied collar and pointing a threatening finger at his unrecognisably swollen eyes.

"You raise a hand to your wife, to your little girl, or to anybody else in this camp one more time then I will not stop next time, do you hear me?" I hissed, dropping his t-shirt to instead grab his chin in my hand. "Do you _hear_ me?" I yelled in his face- and as he replied a weak _yes _I pulled him towards me again.

"I'll beat you to death, Ed," I growled, and he didn't need the extra punches I threw in to know that I wasn't joking. I threw him back in the dirt where he rightfully belonged, and gave him a last kick as I stood up.

Carol threw himself over his prone body, whimpering, and I felt sick to my stomach. Righteousness had never come as easy to me as it did to Rick, and I was usually very willing to bend my morals if it suited me well enough. Cowardice, however, was something that I never could abide- and I would have gladly shot myself before raising a hand to a woman like Carol. I felt the bile rising in my throat and spat at Ed's feet.

I looked up at the girls- and I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't what I saw. They were all just _looking_ at me in that way that women sometimes have- when you've disgusted them so much that they get that expression on their face like there's nothing more they can say. They were Carol's friends- my friends, too- so didn't they think he deserved it?

I tangled my hand in my curls, conflicted- and this time, there was nothing left to do but leave them all there. I gathered up my rifle and Carl's discarded fishing net and jogged back along the trail to camp, the picture of their horrified faces ingrained in the forefront of my mind. Maybe I had been wrong about Rick's power- maybe brute strength was the one to fear after all.

Things calmed down again, just as they always did. We knew that none of us could afford to hold grudges; not if we wanted to stay alive. Besides, I was too worried about Rick to care about anyone's opinions of me. Where the hell was he? I had been hoping they would be back by the early afternoon, but the sun just kept travelling across thy sky and still there were no signs of the group returning.

I was distracted soon enough when Dale came to speak to me- he was worried about Jim, he said. Dale was not my biggest fan so I knew he must've been pretty freaked out before he would come to me.

"Why didn't you talk to him?" I asked.

"What, you don't think I tried that? He won't answer me."

I got where he was going with this. "So," I confirmed, "You want me to go speak to him instead?"

"If you would be so kind," he replied sardonically, starting off towards where he had left Jim. I rolled my eyes at his tone but followed anyway, because I didn't mind the idea of a distraction. I wondered if Dale would have gone to Rick- practical stranger or not- if he were here instead of me. I wondered if Dale wished I had gone to Atlanta with our little reconnaissance group. Or maybe instead of them.

When we reached the top of the ridge where Jim was standing, I could see why Dale had been concerned. Because Jim wasn't just _standing_- he was digging, and what he was digging looked suspiciously like a series of uniformly shaped graves. He looked like he was going crazy, hacking relentlessly at the hard, unyielding ground. He wasn't a big guy- maybe even smaller than Rick- and if he kept this up for much longer then he would end up passing out. I looked around at the group who had trailed after us, and they seemed to be having the same thoughts.

"Hey, Jim," I called, trying to get his attention. He kept digging, as though I hadn't spoken at all. "Whyn't you hold up, alright, and gimme a second here? Please."

He straightened himself up, leaning on his spade. "What do you want?" he said, sounding instantly defensive.

"Just a little concerned, that's all." I held up my hands as I spoke to emphasise that I didn't mean him any harm- and I really didn't. After everything that had happened, who could blame a guy for going a little nuts? I paused, surveying him with a sense of morbid fascination. I could feel everyone willing me to break the silence- to ask the question that we were all desperate to know the answer to.

"So- why you diggin'?"

He rubbed his nose, smiling under his hand like he was privy to some secret joke that I couldn't possibly understand. I smiled too, in a vain attempt to put him at ease.

"What, you headin' to China, Jim?" I chuckled. That would definitely be crazy- a billion people is bad enough, but a billion walkers? Give me Georgia any day of the week on those odds.

"Doesn't matter," he said with a smile, "I'm not hurtin' anyone."

I thought about it for a second, and realised that he did have a point. A guy had to do something to let off steam, and he had come up to this hilltop alone without telling a soul or bidding even one person to come with him. This didn't seem much crazier than my obsessive gun-cleaning regime- it wasn't necessary, but it was harmless. It was just like Dale to get involved where he wasn't wanted, worrying and fussing like an old woman. Then again, he was scaring the living shit out of everyone with this, and God knew nobody had to be any more on edge than they already were. We were already confronted with death on a daily basis, so it probably wasn't a great idea to start digging a gravesite in our back yard.

Okay. Dale was right.

We beat around the bush a bit, showing concern for Jim's health because _it's a hundred degrees out here _and _you can't keep this up all day _but our pleas fell on deaf ears. Dale and I turned to the rest of the group, searching for some sort of back up. My eyes met Lori's just for a second, and then she stepped up beside me.

"Jim, they're not gonna say it, so I will. You're scaring people." Her arms were folded tightly over her chest, but she gave him a sympathetic look. "You're scaring my son. And Carol's daughter," she finished pointedly.

Still he continued digging, discounting my attempts to get him to rest for a while; get some shade. I even volunteered to help him- so long as he got some shade and told me what this fuss was about- but nothing seemed to deter him.

"Whyn't you go ahead and gimme that shovel," I said civilly, reaching a hand towards him.

"Or what?" he snapped, stopping his digging long enough to glare at me.

"There is no 'or what'," I promised. "I'm askin' you. I'm comin' to you and I'm askin' you- please," I added hastily, his hostility putting me on edge. "I don't wanna have to take it from you."

"If I don't, then what?" he asked, leaning on his spade again as he surveyed me suspiciously from under his cap. "Then you're gonna beat my face in like Ed Peletier, aren't you?"

I looked at the ground, a creeping feeling of shame spreading through me- and then annoyance at myself for feeling that way. Why didn't Jim get it- why didn't he _see_? I had a real reason to hurt Ed, a tangible motivation in the bruises on Carol's body and his hands reaching to hurt Andrea and my own pent-up anger. Why would I hurt Jim, when he had done nothing to deserve it? But now he _was_, now he was doing something to deserve my anger because he was looking round the group and talking and talking and making me out to be something I wasn't. I gritted my teeth and willed the spreading feeling of rage in my stomach into a tight little ball. _He's just upset_, I told myself,_ He doesn't really think that. _But what if he did?

He leaned towards me, spade in hand. "See, now. That's what happens when someone crosses you."

"That was different, Jim," I insisted, and I could feel the muscles in my jaw twitching as I struggled to keep my mouth shut, controlled. I reached calmly for the shovel, but he abruptly yanked it away and swung at me, full force. I was forced to tackle him to the ground; throwing the spade away before he could do anyone real damage. He was blabbering away as I cuffed him, panicking, and I tried my best to settle him down- pandering to him and hushing him as though he was a little kid. Just like baby Carl when he used to have those screaming tantrums that all kids have at some point or another: _nobody's gonna hurt you, shh, it'll be okay._

It wouldn't be, though- I knew, and Jim knew. That wasn't a promise I could make- I wasn't calming down a toddler's tantrum anymore, I reminded myself. We were going to get hurt. Hurt, and killed, and no whispered words of comfort on my part could stop that. I had tried to avoid the thought, but confronted with that stark realisation I was forced to admit to myself that Jim wasn't crazy. Perhaps he was really the most sane of us all.

**_A/N: Apologies for lack of Rick/Shane interactions in this chapter, but I felt it was important to put in the stuff about Ed and Jim to explain some of Shane's motivations. Rick will return in force next chapter!_**


	7. Chapter 7

The attack happened not long after nightfall, when we were all lounging lazily around the fire- satiated by Andrea and Amy's impressive catch and with our alertness altogether too low. This was too nice- too like we had just stepped out of our busy lives for a pleasant little camping trip- and I should never have let my guard down like I did.

Amy went down first, and there was just the one- then as soon as I could blink a swarm was upon us, coming at us from every direction in an endless torrent like the Biblical plagues our reverend used to tell us about in church. I couldn't act quickly enough to protect everyone- I didn't have enough hands to protect Lori and Carl and Sophia and Carol and still keep firing and firing and firing at the bastards like I wanted to. I did what I could, ushering them along behind me as I kept the walkers at bay, desperately trying to give Lori room to make a break for the RV with the kids.

Other people had gathered their weapons now- a ridiculous assortment of baseball bats, farm tools, and kitchen knives- and were struggling to fight off wave after wave of walkers. I almost wanted to laugh at the futility of the whole situation. What exactly were we doing here? What were we hoping to achieve? But I didn't have the luxury of cynicism, because there were people more important than I could ever hope to be that I had to do everything to keep alive. In that moment, I could afford to think of nothing else.

I turned my back to the RV, herding them behind me and taking small, furtive steps backwards as I frantically searched around for any walkers within biting distance. From this position, I could see everything- see the full carnage of the situation that I had allowed to happen but was powerless to stop.

By the time Rick returned, it was too late. They took out the last of the walkers, but not before they got several of our group. Amy was down- alive, poor girl, but not for much longer. A quick scout later told us that Ed Peletier was down as well, so I guess there had been no need for our little boxing match. There were others, too. Other lives that shouldn't have been lost. Other people who should have died in their beds, of old age, and surrounded by their families. I felt the burn of threatening tears at the thought- at the realisation that that wasn't an option for any of us now. I had hated the thought of dying old before; had always been cynical about clichés. But it was always there- an option, a comforting possibility that I could return to if I changed my mind. Well, it wasn't a possibility any more.

There was a beat of silence, and then Carl dashed out from behind me- launching himself at his daddy and just clinging there, his tiny little body wracked with sobs. Lori followed, staggering towards Rick as if in a daze. I watched them in silence, a growing lump in my throat. _Second best,_ I reminded myself.

They walked past me, towards the RV, but I couldn't bring myself to look around. I knew Amy was dying there- right in front of us- and there was nothing that any of us could do to save her. If there had been, I would have done it in an instant- anything, everything. I heard Carl give a stuttering little breath before letting out a plaintive wail, and I knew that he must have seen Amy. That meant that Rick had, too.

I had told him to stay. I had _told_ him, but he wouldn't listen. My relief at his return was sullied by that knowledge; my happiness clouded by a faint stirring of hateful, irrepressible self-righteousness at the back of my mind. I'm not trying to say that this was Rick's fault- we were living in a brutal world, and it was only a matter of time for all of us. I knew, though, that he would blame himself. That he would hear Carl's sobbing and picture Amy's fragile little bloodied body in his mind as he slept and just _hate himself _for not being there. Stay or go; he would have been disgusted with himself either way. I knew that, but he didn't. He would let the guilt eat away at him endlessly, the two options battling against each other in his head in an abortive attempt to come to the right answer because there just _wasn't_ one.

He did what he thought was right. It might have made him an insufferable prick, sometimes- but it also made me love him.

**_A/N: Rick is back! Short but emotional chapter to make up for the super-long last chapter. Development of their relationship is on the horizon. Next chapter holds the promise of angst, guilt and comfort sex. _**


	8. Chapter 8

The morning after the attack was one of the hardest of my life. Andrea wouldn't leave Amy's side, and we were all terrified that she was going to reanimate and bite her sister. When Rick tried to explain to her what we had to do, she pulled a handgun on him and pointed it straight at his face- all of us could see how serious she was about pulling the trigger. A few hours later, she used the same handgun to put a bullet in Amy's temple.

We discovered, as we were piling up the bodies, that Jim had been bitten too. He told us that he remembered why he was digging the graves- and it looked like one of them was going to end up being his own. He looked so scared- and rightly so, because Daryl fucking Dixon kept trying to put a pickaxe through his skull. Rick and I might have disagreed about some things- we were both passionate people, in our own ways- but he laid it out to Daryl right then. "We don't kill the living," he insisted, as I stepped in front of Jim.

We debated what to do next- the only thing that everyone could agree on was that it wasn't safe to stay on that hilltop for much longer. The biters were running out of food in Atlanta and herds were moving outwards to the suburbs and beyond- I suspected that the attack from the night before was nothing compared to what was set to come. I wanted to find a military base- they would have been the best prepared, and the most likely to hold out for this long. If we could make it to one, we would find shelter and supplies to last longer than anything we could set up on our own.

Rick hated the idea- he had run into a faction of the National Guard in Atlanta, but they were long overrun. Judging by that, he said, the military must have fallen- but I wasn't so sure. They probably just abandoned that division to their fate when they saw that the city was a lost cause. Nevertheless, Rick was championing an attempt to get to the CDC headquarters and find Jim a cure. It was a long shot, for sure- but I had to admit that it was Jim's only hope. We were isolated in our little abandoned quarry- for all we knew the CDC were already distributing a cure, or a vaccination, and we had just missed that particular memo.

Rick volunteered us to finish digging the graves whilst everyone else dealt with the dead and tried to get the camp back into some kind of order. We trekked up the verge to the top of the hill in silence, and as we dug our only company was the sound of the crickets that went on unperturbed by the previous night's events. Neither of us could bring ourselves to break the silence- there was a lot which had gone unsaid between us recently, and we needed some time to think before starting down that path.

Finally, Rick stood up abruptly- jamming his shovel into the dirt and leaning on it in just the same way that Jim had the day before. "Say it," he ordered.

I thought about it for a second, raking my hand through my hair. I really did think about dropping the subject, but I couldn't force myself let it go without first confronting him about it. "Okay," I said.

"I'm thinkin'- if you'd have stayed here- if you'd have looked after your own? Instead you took off, and you took half our manpower with you- so I'm thinkin' that maybe our losses wouldn't have been so bad." I went back to my digging.

"If we hadn't gone out and brought those guns back when we did, I think our losses woulda been a lot worse. Maybe the entire camp," he said pointedly, glaring at me with those icy blue eyes. I hung my head, ashamed at my lack of self control.

I knew that I should have resisted bringing it up to him. Neither of us could know what might have happened differently if he had been there, and he was already beating himself up about it. I shouldn't have said anything, but I couldn't live with myself if I let him think for a second that his place was anywhere but here, with us.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, letting my spade fall to the ground with a dull _thud. _I followed suit, sinking heavily to the ground and rubbing my eyes roughly with blistered fingers. "I'm sorry, Rick. This wasn't your fault. I just can't stand the thought of you leavin' us again- leavin'…" My voice cracked and I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Leaving you?" he asked. I nodded, looking up at him apologetically. He shook his head faintly in response, then came over and dropped to the ground beside me.

"You don't need to be ashamed of that, brother. I know that we're always tryin' to play that macho game, pretendin' that we don't need any help- you, especially. Pretendin' that we ain't scared. You can hide that from Lori, Carl, the others- but you don't need to hide it from me," he reassured me, pulling my head down to rest in the crook of his neck.

He stroked my sweat-soaked hair back from my face, _gently gently_- his fingers barely grazing my forehead, as though I was some timid animal that he was afraid to spook. "I'm scared, too," he whispered into my hair as he leant his head on top of mine.

"I know you think that I don't care about you," he continued after a while, "But that isn't true. I need you just as much as you need me- maybe even more. A lot has changed- Carl and Lori have to be my first priority, you know that. You've always known that." His warm breath tickled my ear as he whispered, and it was a comforting sensation. Intimate.

"I know," I murmured.

"But please, Shane. _Please_. Don't make the mistake of thinkin' that means I don't care. I didn't mean what I said the other night. I do remember what it was like, before. Those feelings haunted me from when I woke up right 'til I found you, and they're hauntin' me still now." He paused. "Somethin' special," he recalled, his voice breaking under the strain of what he was saying, and all of the implications that his words carried.

And suddenly it all became too much for him- all of that crushing emotion- and it was as though he collapsed in on himself. I could feel his body shaking, and I gathered him into my arms as he finally, _finally_ let go. He sobbed against my shoulder- vulnerable, pitiful, child-like- and I wondered if he had taken even a moment since he woke up in that hospital to just let himself be sad.

At some point I stopped holding him and laid him down in the dust, and we were kissing, and maybe we were crying too but I can't be sure but we were _kissing_, really, finally. And then there was something more, and I became vaguely aware of the impracticality of our surroundings and the likelihood of someone finding us- but in that moment I didn't care.

I couldn't help thinking back to those first times- fumbling, clueless, and desperate. That was how this was, this hot afternoon on a grassy hilltop. There was no pretence- no false, sickening attempt at romance. It was passionate, and reckless, and painful. It was over too soon and yet not over soon enough, because although we didn't want it, we _needed _it; were desperate for it as though we had been starving for too long and this was the only thing left in the world that could save us.

When it was over, we didn't waste time- we didn't talk about it, because we didn't need to. I tightened my belt, wiped the sweat from my face with my forearm, and picked up a shovel. Rick did the same, slicking back his damp curls from his forehead- and we returned to our work as though nothing had happened. But it had happened, and we both knew. We savoured it. We turned it over in our minds. It had happened because it was destined to happen- and for the first time since Rick had been shot, I didn't feel quite so cripplingly alone.

_**A/N: I really didn't expect to turn this chapter over so quickly, but it just sort of fell into place. I know that this is pretty PG as far as sex goes but I thought it was a more appropriate approach under their specific circumstances (grave digging and all). Enjoy, regardless!**_


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